one time, acreage around what is now Veterans Park served as a final resting place for both the British military garrison, and for a fairly large number of civilians.” Ryan broke character. “Average joes and janes got planted there, too.” Back to Herr Professor. “From 1797 until the mid-nineteenth century, more than one thousand soldiers and their families were interred in what became known as the Old Military Burying Ground. Over the years, neglect and vandalism took their toll, and the cemetery became an eyesore. In 1944, the British soldiers were disinterred and moved to the Field of Honour in Pointe-Claire.”
“But here’s the catch.” Simple Ryan-speak. “There was never any systematic attempt to unearth Jane and Joe. The gravestones went away, but many ordinary citizens were left behind.”
So were some soldiers, I thought, remembering my fellow tomb occupants.
“Every now and then a stiff surfaces, much to the dismay of public utility and construction crews.”
Ryan smiled, exceedingly pleased with himself.
“How do you know all this?” I asked.
“We contacted an archaeologist at U of M and an historian at the McCord. The former agreed to go down with the SIJ team. The latter declined. The archaeologist thinks burials were probably unearthed when the sewer was constructed, sometime around the turn of the century. He hypothesizes that, unnerved, workers slapped up a quickie tomb, sealed the displaced corpses inside, and moved along. Being geographically apart, the makeshift crypt was missed when the cemetery was moved in the forties.”
“At first I thought Raines was my attacker,” I said. “He’d know about historic tombs and burial grounds. Then I zoned in on Joe. He stumbled on the tomb while drainsploring, right?”
“Right.”
“Joe planned to have me simply disappear. No body. No explanation. Just gone.”
“Yes.” Ryan’s grip tightened and his thumb moved more rapidly across my knuckles. Stopped. We both waited out an arterial ice crystal assault. Nothing.
“Was Joe acting for Briel?”
“Again, she says it was all Joe all the way. Denies knowledge of any plan to harm you.”
“Where is he, anyway?”
“Enjoying a cage and a bright orange jumpsuit. While I searched for you, my backup team fished him out of the sewer.”
“Did Joe give a reason for wanting to kill me?”
“He says Briel danced around the subject, but that her meaning was clear. Says she constantly mentioned things would go smoother without you. Hinted it would be nice if you went away and never came back.”
“How did you find me?”
“Around eleven, I called your condo and your cell, got no answer. I found that odd, since you’d just told me you planned to stay home with the cat. After phoning repeatedly, I began to worry that you were sick again, so I decided to swing by your place. The emergency exit was jammed with a shoe. Your front door was unlocked. Your watch lay smashed on the floor. Your jacket was there but you were gone.”
Watch on the floor? I guess I had Birdie to thank for that.
“You’d just told me your suspicions concerning Briel, and described Raines’s temper and sketchy past. You’d also just had a nasty encounter with your neighbor.”
I’d forgotten all about Sparky.
“I called Claudel and told him to net Briel and her hubby. I found your neighbor asleep in his recliner. Sparky’s boss vouched that he’d been filling potholes on the Decarie Expressway until eleven. By the way, Sparky admitted to smashing your window.”
“How?”
“Metal baseball bat. He’ll pay damages. But that’s a story for another day.”
“That sonovabitch.”
“Briel and Raines stonewalled at first, but Claudel came down hard and they cracked under threats of multicount indictments. Briel agreed to phone Joe.
“Needless to say, we were listening. Joe said he’d seen you rifling drawers in Briel’s office, overheard you talking about the Lac Saint-Jean teeth and the SEM and EDS tests you intended to run. To protect Briel and his future at Body Find, he told her he’d taken you out.”
Ryan’s jaw muscles bunched and the pressure on my hand increased.
“Joe bragged that he’d buried you alive in a place you’d never be found. Briel asked where you were. Joe refused to disclose the location. She begged. He held firm. As per our prearranged plan, she demanded he meet her at the lab.
“When Joe arrived, Briel told him you had something she desperately needed. Otherwise her deceit would be uncovered, her reputation ruined, and Body Find destroyed. She asked again where you were. Joe still refused to tell her.
“Acting distraught-very convincingly, I might add-Briel begged that he retrieve a bag of teeth she knew you were carrying on your person. Threatened to have nothing further to do with him if he refused.”
“The dolt really thought I was toting evidence around?” I couldn’t believe anyone could be that stupid.
“Briel said you’d called and accused her of professional misconduct, said you’d claimed to have proof in your jeans pocket. She told Joe she’d checked her filing cabinet and found teeth missing. Incriminating teeth. It rang true. Joe had seen you take something from Briel’s office.”
“All this time you’re waiting in the wings.”
“Yes, ma’am. Joe led me to you. The rest is history.”
“How the hell did he get me into that tomb?”
“There’s a manhole just yards past the tomb opening. You went the wrong way, though you wouldn’t have been able to see the manhole from inside in the dark.”
“Figures. How did he seal the damn door so effectively, and why?”
“Quikrete Exterior Use Anchoring Cement.”
Ryan beamed. I waited for the explanation.
“You can buy the stuff at any hardware store. Joe hid a ten-pound bucket in the sewer and brought hot water with him. After shoving you inside the tomb, he mixed the cement, jammed the plank into place, and filled the gap. The stuff sets up in thirty minutes, reaches a compression strength of two hundred psi in two hours, four hundred psi in twenty-four. You probably started banging away around two or three a.m. By that time the pull-out strength would have been pretty impressive. He probably sealed it because he didn’t want another drainsplorer getting in there and finding a modern body.”
I thought a moment.
“Why not use the same manhole when he returned?”
“When Joe arrived, shortly before dawn, a street crew was setting up over his original entrance point. Undaunted, he hied himself to the next manhole, donned his drainsploring waders, and headed down. With yours truly close on his tail, of course.”
In the corridor, a bell bonged softly. A cart rolled by. A voice paged Dr. Someone. Behind me machines beeped softly.
“Thanks for being there, Ryan.”
“My pleasure.”
Pleasure?
“It was a sewer.”
“You were in it.”
The nurse entered, placed a vase on my bedside table, cranked her lips into something that looked like a smile. Ryan and I both thanked her.
“I remember one thing,” I said when she’d gone.
